Don't Eat the Crab
by Raych K
Summary: Lassie didn't know Shawn shouldn't eat the crabdip.


**Don't eat the crab.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Psych. **

**Summary: Lassie didn't know Shawn shouldn't eat shellfish. Did he?**

"I can't believe we are actually going to a get together at my dad's house," Shawn said to his best friend Gus as they pulled up in front of the beachfront home.

"I think it's nice that your dad is throwing a party for us. He just wants to congratulate us on our first year in business. And considering how you father feels about private investigators I think it's a really big step for him," Gus defended the older Spencer.

"Oh come on, Gus. He's just doing this so he can show off his new found cooking skills. He wouldn't care if we were at the party or not," Shawn had yet to unhook his seatbelt. "Let's just go to the beach. Look," he motioned toward the water. "It's a beautiful day. Do you really want to spend the afternoon making small talk with a bunch of cops? We don't even know most of them."

"Juliet is going to be there," Gus said reaching over and unclasping Shawn's seatbelt.

"Fine," Shawn whined getting out of the car. "But if he breaks out Twister I am outta there."

Inside there were several people milling around already. The table was loaded down with food and drinks were being served in the kitchen. Shawn started to pick up a plate to load up when Henry snatched it from his hand, "Wait for the other guests to arrive."

"I'm hungry and you did say that this thing was for me and Gus," Henry gave an exasperated sigh.

"You can eat in a few more minutes," he told his son before heading off to get more food from the kitchen.

"What, no pineapple?" Shawn called after his father.

"Hi, guys," Juliet said walking up next to them.

"Hey, Jules. I was just trying to convince Gus to blow off this party and head out to the beach with me. Care to join us?" Shawn smiled at the pretty blond.

"Sorry Shawn, I'd love to but I didn't bring my suit," she answered the fake psychic.

"That's perfect, neither did I," his smile broadened at her little laugh. Shawn noticed detective Carlton Lassiter come in the front door. "Hey, Lassieface!" he shouted across the room.

Henry came out of the kitchen, this time with a couple of drinks for Shawn and Gus. "Hi, Carlton, glad you could make it," he told the detective.

"I wouldn't miss it," Lassiter smiled and held up a tray. "Dip." He said.

"Hey, Lassie, there is no need for name calling," Shawn admonished.

"Thanks, just put it on the table," Henry told him as he went back to the kitchen for more drinks.

"Dad, pineapple!" Shawn called to him again, before turning to Lassiter. "So, Lassie, couldn't come up with an excuse to get out of this?"

Lassiter looked at Shawn as though that were absurd, then, "Maybe," he answered looking around, afraid the elder Spencer might overhear.

While his father was in the kitchen, Shawn grabbed a chip, loading it with the dip Lassiter had brought with him. "This is good, Lassie. I didn't know you're a cook too."

"It's stirring, Spencer. There's really not much cooking involved."

"You should try this, Gus."

"I'll wait until your dad says we can eat. He seems a little crazed with all the people here, I don't want to get on his bad side," Gus told Shawn watching his friend as he shoved another chip into his mouth.

"He has a good side?" Shawn asked, the others not sure if he was joking or not. The fake psychic started to pick up another chip, but decided against it. He was starting to feel a small tightening in his throat. "Lassie," he started. "This dip wouldn't happen to have shellfish in it, would it?"

Lassiter who had been searching the room for anyone else to talk to looked back at Shawn, "Crab, why?"

"Gus," Shawn addressed his friend.

Gus sighed, "I'll get your dad." He headed for the kitchen.

"I'll be back there," Shawn said pointing toward a hallway.

"What? Is it bad?" Lassiter asked, picking up the dip to smell it. "I made it fresh." He said to Juliet who watched Shawn with a worried look on her face.

"He doesn't look so good," She told her partner. Juliet watched Shawn put his hand on the wall briefly before disappearing down the hallway. "I'm gonna go check on him."

Lassiter followed when he saw Henry and Gus emerge from the kitchen and rush after Shawn and Juliet.

"Shawn?" The three men found Shawn and Juliet in what Lassiter assumed was Shawn's childhood bedroom. Shawn was kneeling next to the little twin bed almost as if he were praying. Juliet was next to him rubbing his back. "Are you okay?" She was asking him. "Mr. Spencer, he just..."

"It's okay, Juliet," Henry told her bending next to Shawn. "Hey, pal, feel like your throat's closing up?"

Shawn nodded, but didn't say anything. "I'll call," Gus told Henry, pulling out his cell and leaving the room for a moment.

"What's going on?" Lassiter asked from the doorway.

"Carlton, go to my bedroom. Last door on the left. In the bathroom there's a first aid kit, could you bring it here?" Henry was almost too calm as he gave the directions.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Juliet heard Shawn start to gasp for air. "Shawn?" She cried.

"Come on Shawn, up on the bed. Juliet, get behind him. He needs to sit up. Easy, son," Henry said helping Shawn to his feet. Juliet did as Henry asked her, allowing Shawn to lean back against her. She could hear and feel how much difficulty breathing he seemed to be having. She tried to hold him steady as he struggled to bring air into his lungs.

Shawn groaned and put one hand to his abdomen. "Stomach hurt?" Henry asked. His son nodded closing his eyes. Shawn's wheezing seemed to be getting worse.

"What's wrong with him?" Juliet asked when she couldn't take it any longer.

"Shawn, you just look at me, okay?" Henry told his son, staring him straight in the eyes. "You're gonna be fine, got me?" There was an almost imperceptible nod from Shawn. "Squeeze my hand, Shawn. Come on, pal. How often do I give you permission to try to hurt me? He's having a reaction to the crab dip." Juliet had thought Henry didn't hear her until he was suddenly explaining what was happening.

"They're on the way," Gus said, entering the room.

"I found it," Lassiter laid the first aid kit on the bed next Henry.

Henry was working on the buckle of Shawn's jeans. "Get out an alcohol wipe and there should be an Epi pen in there." Please let there be one, he thought to himself. He pulled Shawn's jeans down far enough to expose his son's thigh. Suddenly Shawn started pushing at his father.

"Shawn let your dad give you the injection," Juliet urged worriedly.

"His blood pressure has probably dropped and he's disoriented," Henry explained. "He doesn't realize I'm trying to help him. Hold his arms if you can."

"This?" Lassiter asked pulling out the injection pen.

"Yeah," Henry took it from him. "Swab his thigh," Lassiter unwrapped the wipe and rubbed Shawn's leg with it. Helping Juliet hold Shawn's arms, Henry pulled the cap off the pen using his teeth and quickly used the automatic injector to administer the medication. "Okay, Shawn. It's gonna start working soon."

Shawn was still struggling to breathe. Several party guests had made their way to the back of the house after hearing the commotion. A few were peeking into the room. Seeing them Gus closed the bedroom door. He knew Shawn would hate everyone seeing him like this. When the ambulance showed up, someone would show the paramedics where to go. "He's allergic to crab? I didn't know," Lassiter said aloud.

"It happens, doesn't it, Shawn," Henry maintained eye contact with his son. "In," he breathed. "Out, do it with me Shawn. You have to relax, it's almost over. In and out," he spoke slowly, encouraging Shawn to breathe with him.

Juliet tried to soothe her friend, gently rubbing up and down his arms. She let her cheek rest on his head. His hair was damp. Just trying to breathe he had worked up a sweat. She wiped at the sweat on his forehead before it could run into his eyes. "You're going to be fine," she whispered to him.

Shawn's breathing started to ease a bit. Henry reached up and wiped away some of the sweat that had formed on his son's reddened cheeks. "I told you not to eat yet," Henry teased.

"You didn't have . . . " Shawn started his speech slurred from his exhaustion. ". . . booby trap the table." Henry smiled and rested his head briefly on Shawn's chest. Shawn weakly patted his father's back. "I'm okay, dad." He assured the older man. Leaning against the wall, Gus slid down to sit on the floor and get his own emotions under control.

The door opened and there was a flurry of activity as the paramedics went to work. Lassiter yelled for everyone to move out of the way as Shawn was loaded onto the stretcher and moved outside to the ambulance. Henry walked next to his son, telling the paramedics what they needed to know about Shawn. Once the younger man was loaded into the ambulance, Henry climbed in and the truck left for the hospital, sirens screaming. Gus and Juliet followed the ambulance leaving Lassiter to answer questions and lock up the house once everyone left.

Something woke Shawn up early. The sun was just starting to peek through the blinds that covered the hospital windows. He saw a man standing at the window staring out. "Lassie?" He asked groggily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Lassiter said walking closer to the bed. He didn't seem to know what to do with his arms.

"It's okay. What time is it, anyway?" Shawn asked as he moved into a more comfortable position.

"Around five a.m."

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence. Finally Shawn asked, "Why are you here at five in the morning? Is everything okay?"

"I couldn't sleep," Lassiter told him.

Shawn waited for him to expand on the comment. When he didn't Shawn asked, "And?"

"And I'm sorry, okay. I didn't know you were allergic to shellfish."

Shawn was confused, "Did someone blame you for this?" He asked.

Lassiter shook his head, "No."

"You just said you didn't know I was allergic to shellfish, so I know you weren't trying to knock me off. I'm not understanding what the problem is."

"You could've died, Spencer. You almost did. It would have been my fault and..."

Shawn was grinning. "So you feel guilty."

"Well, yeah, wouldn't you?"

"It probably would have never occurred to me to actually bring more food to a party."

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "It's polite."

"Is it polite to almost kill the guest of honor?" Shawn asked trying to joke with Lassiter. But when the other man didn't find it funny Shawn said, "That was a joke, Lassie. Lighten up, man."

"I ALMOST KILLED YOU!" Lassiter enunciated.

"Lassie, calm down," Shawn looked serious for the first time since they'd been talking. "This happens about once every two or three years. It's not the first time and it sure as hell won't be the last time. You saw my dad. This is something we've had to deal with for years. It's nobody's fault. Shit happens. I'll spend a couple of days here in the hospital then go home. I'm fine."

Lassiter stared at the fake psychic for a moment then put his hands in his pockets and sighed. Shawn tried to reassure him again, "I'm fine."

"Okay," the detective nodded.

"Now get out of here. It's five o'clock in the morning. Come on, gees, Lassie. What were you thinking waking a sick man this early?"

Lassiter chuckled and headed toward the door. He picked up a Styrofoam cup and straw from the table as he passed by Shawn's bed. "What's that?" Shawn asked.

"What, this?" Lassiter held up the drink. "Oh, this is a pineapple smoothie. I brought it to try and make amends, but since you have assured me that none of this is my fault I think I'll just take it with me."

"Hey wait," Shawn said as he watched Lassiter unwrap the straw and put it in the delicious treat.

"Bye, Spencer," he smiled as he walked to the door.

"You did make the crab dip!" Shawn reminded him.

"See you back at work," Lassiter called exiting the room.

"Lassie, that's cruel. I'm sick you know!" Shawn yelled after the detective. "How am I supposed to sleep now?" He said to himself when it was evident Lassiter wasn't coming back with the smoothie. Shawn smiled as he picked up the phone. "Gus? Yes, I know what time it is. I need you to bring me a pineapple smoothie. Hello? Gus?"

If Gus didn't show up in thirty minutes with the smoothie, Shawn decided he would just have to call his dad.

The End.


End file.
